Uprooted by War
by General Luigi
Summary: Igor and his family enjoyed their life in Caelin, even after Lundgren had attempted to overthrow Lord Hausen. When Laus invades, though, the family ends up traveling with Lord Hector and his strategist, Ivan. Note: give the plot time.
1. Chapter 1: The Cad on Horseback

**Uprooted by War**

By General Luigi

**Author's Notes**

This is the story of four characters I made up who end up traveling with Lord Hector on his campaign. In particular, I feel I should thank DARK MARTH from the forums at the Nintendo website for starting the thread that inspired me to start on this story. I will go through a game of Fire Emblem as this story is written, using my own experience in the game in the story; any Support-based loves in my game will be used, any deaths in my game will occur, and so on. The story begins shortly after Lundgren's death. Finally, as to the names, I use the same method the game uses—namely, naming characters and places after real-world geographical locations and opera characters.

**Chapter 1—The Cad on Horseback**

Igor was very glad he had remembered to wear his greatcoat; he had gone to the shop to purchase a new tome when a sudden downpour had started. Hopefully, the thick coat's layers would be enough to protect the tome's fragile pages from the elements. He noted that one of the downsides of using magic instead of weapons was that true mastery could not be gained through new techniques on the same item. Marina had plenty of ordinary items for her to improve her sword skills with, but magic did not work that way. Marina could use all sorts of moves with the same sword, but for each magic spell, one needed an entirely different tome. Even if one only cast Flux all one's life, one would still need to at least read higher-level tomes to improve one's skill.

Igor was clearly not from Caelin, even if he lived there. Of course, while both his son and daughter were born in Caelin, neither looked the part. Igor's rounded head made his Ilian descent quite obvious to those who knew what Ilians looked like. Of course, his dull blue hair was even more proof; he had yet to meet a native-born Ilian who had warm-colored hair. How he, an Ilian, had ended up in Caelin with a Sacaen wife was an odd story that very few actually believed. He said it was a result of Araphen Syndrome, but few knew what Araphen Syndrome was. The only part of Igor's story that was widely believed was that he was an Ilian with a Sacaen wife. If Marina lacked the angular jaw of a Sacaen and he the rounded face of an Ilian, he doubted that people would believe a thing about his past.

Travelers and newcomers always stared at Igor's greatcoat, mainly because such thick clothing—let alone black—was uncommon in a place like Caelin. Of course, they stared just as much (though for different reasons) at Marina's summer clothing. Initially, Igor was quite defensive about everyone staring so much at his wife, but after enough time, he grew used to it. An old Bern proverb went, "You can look at my wife all you want, but if you touch her, I will kill you." Now, Igor observed that philosophy rather than his older "Go stare at a life drawing, cad!" response. Looking back at the situation, he concluded that he would have probably stared just as much. He did not like the thought of staring so improperly at a lady, but he knew his own weaknesses; for the kind of magic he studied, one had to know one's weaknesses to avoid falling to the darkness.

Igor saw the familiar red roof of the shop and readied himself for another exchange with the shopkeeper. While he tolerated Volga's prejudice, he did not enjoy it by any means. In addition, he still had not forgiven her for the incident with that extremely expensive Fimbulvetr tome, and Xenia still held a vicious grudge against her. To make matters worse, Volga had made it quite clear that she would not even sell dark tomes were it not for Igor's business. One of the reasons why being a shaman was so difficult was the rotten rumors (some of which were undeniably true) surrounding dark magic. Still, Igor admitted he was quite lucky to have settled in a town with a good shop, even if Volga charged ridiculous prices for dark tomes. The issue of even convincing Volga to order the Nosferatu tome in the first place was quite a task. After hours of arguing, she finally consented (for 12,064 Gold in advance) to order the tome. If Volga did anything to damage the tome, Igor had a feeling he might prove why dark magic was so greatly hated by most people. Were it not for his family's success with the armory, Igor would have probably been working for that intolerable woman until even his pupils were blood-shot.

He opened the door and walked in, making a point of wiping his feet before going all the way in. There, with the familiar disgust on her face, was Volga. Volga was a somewhat plump woman (with the prices Igor paid, she had plenty to eat) who looked twenty years younger than she claimed to be, with the exception of her ragged grey hair. Otherwise, she looked around forty. Owning a magic and health shop had its advantages; even the healthiest Caelins rarely lived beyond fifty unless they had the health care of Lord Hausen himself. Thanks to Igor, Volga was always clothed in the best jewelry and dresses a peasant could afford. He despised the woman's monopolistic power over magic, and her tendency to flaunt her fortune whenever Igor was near only worsened his opinion of her. Dependence was not something Igor liked.

"Igor," the old woman said with her typical dislike of the dark arts.

"You said it had arrived yesterday, so I am here for it," Igor said with the same enthusiasm he had when he first shopped here. "By the way, what do you have in the anima department today?"

"Nothing your girl doesn't already have. Anyway, your tome did indeed arrive yesterday." Here came the worst part, the part when Volga would rummage noisily through her storage room and act as though she could barely grasp the tome. While dark tomes were certainly heavy, they were far from slippery. She did it just to get Igor worried about the tome being dropped or damaged, which was the reason why Xenia always cursed at Volga when she saw her, considering how she had "accidentally" dropped a rare Fimbulvetr tome into a puddle, ruining the ancient writing and disintegrating the pages, quickly making the puddle grow from Xenia's tears. Igor felt a wave of relief soak his body as he felt the rough cover of the Nosferatu tome enter his hands.

"Thank you, Volga," he said.

"Nice doing business with you," Volga said with enthusiasm false enough for a child to notice.

Igor yet again ignored Volga's hatred of him and placed the tome inside the pocket of his greatcoat, buttoned it up, and walked back into the rain. It was always a relief to have a tome delivered to him safely. Surely Volga would not hate him had he been a mage. Such was studying dark magic, though; one had to expect prejudice and mistreatment. He was quite thankful that the Djute tribe knew so little of magic, which meant that their prejudices were virtually nonexistent. Had there been such a prejudice, he doubted he would have ever met Marina. Also, at least his children did not hate dark magic. While Xenia did use anima magic, she had the utmost respect for Igor's preference.

So began Igor's walk back to the armory, which was, fortunately, not too far from the shop. While it was a tad embarrassing that he, a shaman, sold weapons, and even more embarrassing that Marina could lift the heavier weapons more easily, the armory, thanks to its constant business with the local knights and mercenaries, was essentially the only source of income large enough for Igor to afford Volga's outrageous prices while still having enough money to live comfortably. Knights were a common sight around the armory because of the castle being within riding distance, so it did not surprise him when he saw five cavaliers approaching the armory. The armory was one of the few two-story buildings large enough to stand alone, but about half of the first floor was the store. Igor arrived home just in time to greet the cavaliers.

"I would assume you are here for weapons," Igor said.

"Of course," one of the cavaliers responded. The man jumped off his horse in a somewhat swaggering manner. Looking at him, Igor assumed the fellow was in his very late teens or his early twenties. Noticing the green armor, Igor realized he was looking at the subcommander of the Caelin knights. He forgot the knight's name, but he had heard plenty about his involvement in Lundgren's overthrow.

"Right this way, sir," Igor said, leading the knights in after they tied up their horses.

Xenia was sitting in a chair, reading a magic theory book, which Igor promptly discovered was not the best place for her.

"Ah, such a lovely young maiden," the subcommander said, hastily approaching Xenia, who closed her book and looked over to see who was interrupting her. "Tell me, my charmer, what beautiful name was chosen for you?"

"Xenia," she replied without the slightest hint of interest. Igor noticed a "here we go again" look on the other knights' faces. "Is there something I may help you with, sir knight?"

"Merely seeing your lovely smile is enough for me, but I would greatly admire to spend more time with you."

"I appreciate the offer, but I am quite content."

"But I can make you even more content. Surely you will give me a chance."

"Excuse me," Igor cut in, "but I do believe there is the matter of the weapons you came for."

"Oh, yes, of course," said the subcommander, "but first I would like an opportunity to be with your beautiful daughter."

"Subcommander," one of the knights started, "Commander Kent will be quite displeased if he learns you flirted with another maiden."

"In the presence of Xenia's beauty, how can I resist?"

"It's pronounced 'Ksenia', not 'Gzenia'," Xenia said.

"Now I remember your name," Igor said. "Sain, the cad who flirted with Lady Lyndis the instant he saw her. I assure you, sir, that I would not want a man like you to have anything romantic to do with my daughter. Unless you can dedicate your love to only her, I will not allow you to bother her. Now, unless you have something to purchase, please leave us."

"Of course, of course," Sain said. "We were sent for ten iron lances, five steel lances, five slim lances, and five javelins."

Igor thought for a moment to do the calculations.

"10,250 Gold," Xenia said, beating her father to the total.

"Thank you, Xenia," Igor said.

"That much?" Sain asked.

"Yes; you did request a large amount of goods. Therefore, a high total would be no surprise."

"Very well." Sain took out a bag of gold coins, which Igor opened and counted carefully. Xenia went over to help.

"Everything appears to be in order," Igor said after a few minutes. "Your change is that small pile." Sain scooped up the remaining coins and put them in the bag. The knights set about getting the lances and promptly left the store.

"So, did Volga drop the tome?" Xenia asked.

"Oh, right. That issue with Sain made me forget." Igor reached into his greatcoat and, to his relief, took out a dry Nosferatu tome. "That Fimbulvetr tome had actually cost less."

"I just can't believe that witch dropped something so valuable out of spite. It's one thing to drop a Fire tome, or even a Thunder, but Fimbulvetr? That tome was one of the rarest tomes in the world, and Volga just went ahead and let it disintegrate!"

"That's Volga for you. She couldn't care less about the tome's rarity; as long as she gets her money, she's perfectly satisfied. I'm surprised she hasn't made fake tomes and passed them off as real."

"If she ever has that tome in stock again, I'll use it on her!"

"Please don't. After all, she's the only source of dark tomes in all of Caelin, and she knows that."

"Well, she's sixty," Marina said, coming in, "so even with all those medicines, she's bound to die soon."

"I should hope so," Xenia said. "I don't like the idea of people dying, but Volga's an exception."

"So, who was that you were raising your voice at?"

"Subcommander Sain," Igor said. "First Sister Serra gets Feodor lusting for her only to make a fool of him by revealing that she's a cleric, then Sain comes in and wastes no time trying to woo Xenia."

"So I guess it shouldn't surprise me that you got defensive. I still remember how annoyed you got when men stared at me during the summer."

"I suppose there is some similarity, but I have no intent to see a cad like Sain dishonor Xenia."

"Father, why would I _want_ anything to do with him?" Xenia asked, offended.

"Sorry; I know you're smarter than to fall for him; it is just the fact that he tried in the first place that bothers me."

"She is part Sacaen," Marina said, "so I'm not surprised that men are lusting for her. I keep hearing bachelors talking about how beautiful Sacaen women are. Of course, Dame Florina has also given men reason to lust for Ilians. It is so humiliating to hear people talk about me and Xenia—and just women in general—as though we are just objects."

"Now do you understand why I am so defensive?" Igor asked. "There are plenty of deceivers out there, and not all of them are as open and foolish as Sain. Even prodigies can be fooled, and it is deception that so many men rely on these days."

Xenia gave that some thought, and Marina decided she was convinced. Igor went upstairs to start studying his new tome, careful to remove his muddy boots at the foot of the stairs. Sain had been the final proof that Xenia was no longer a child. Igor admitted that Xenia did not have all of the physical features most men preferred, but she was still attractive. Her face had the rounded cheeks of Igor's family, but also possessed the angular jaw so common in Sacaens. Igor thought that Xenia's face was the loveliest part of her, mainly because it had Marina's red eyes—a sort of red that came from burning sodium nitrate—as well as water-blue hair tied back in a tight bun. The thought got him wondering about Marina. Marina was by all means beautiful, and it worried Igor that he may have married for passion alone. Marina had the contours that made the vast majority of men forget where her face was. Of course, traditional Sacaen clothing often made it easy to notice the extremes of a woman's body, particularly the legs. Fortunately, Marina was too slender to have the large breasts so many young men desired in women. From her shoulders to her hips, Marina's structure was somewhat like that of a very narrow hourglass. However, anyone who judged Marina weak due to her skinny limbs often retracted their statement.

"No matter," he thought. "Even if it was just passion at first, I now honestly love her. Better now for me to focus on my studies; it would be foolish to buy such an expensive tome and not even read it." Igor sat down in the drawing room and opened the cover, instantly seeing the familiar text of the ancients that far outdated the Elimineans. Eliminean writing was always very appealing to the eye and would often occupy ornaments in the homes of nobles, even if the owners had no idea what the text meant. As for the ancient text, though, the writing focused more on legibility than beauty. Rather than calligraphy, Igor read the crude yet simple runic text used before Elimine's time.

Religion was a scary thing. Igor had nothing against Saint Elimine, but her followers changed her teachings into calls to arms. Under Archbishop Lancaster, the ancient customs disappeared, altars were ravaged and defiled, the sacred tomes stolen and burned. In fact, few took up the task of copying the remaining dark tomes as it was very tedious work, copying a tome word for word, rune for rune, but Igor had the utmost respect for their devotion to the preservation of ancient magic. Oddly enough, despite his fascination with dark magic, Igor had actually become good friends with Reverend Anadyr. While Igor and his family did not follow the religion following Saint Elimine, they still visited the clergy and learned about Elimine. Igor believed that Elimine's successors had warped her teachings to their own desires and therefore had never kissed the sacred tome. Similarly, neither had anyone else in his family.

Noticing that he was feeling warm, Igor realized he had not removed his greatcoat. Underneath, Igor's own body was revealed to be quite slender, though not as slender as Marina's. Looking at his tome again, Igor began to draw connections to the specific energies commanded and how their reaction would create the second most feared spell in existence. Nosferatu, the spell's namesake, supposedly sucked blood from his enemies to give himself strength, which explained why the spell named for him had a similar trait. The spell was not something to be toyed with, and it was possibly the most tempting spell to misuse. Killing was one thing, but harming others to heal oneself was a great temptation that had driven many shamans to madness. Such a spell would have to be used sparingly if Igor was to have any hope of controlling its evilly attractive powers.


	2. Chapter 2: Ivan

**Chapter 2—Ivan**

Wil had a very arrogant smile on his face after his most recent shot. Of course, Feodor just considered the shot lucky. Wil had the most annoying luck when he practiced with Feodor. Feodor was not a knight, but he was still a very skilled archer. Feodor shot far more accurately and precisely than Wil, but he had much weaker wrists, resulting in his tiring out quicker. Wil continued staring at his friend and rival until Feodor took up his bow and arrow again and prepared to shoot. It was a difficult shot, even for someone as accurate as Feodor, but he pulled back the string as usual and heard the whistle of the arrow.

Feodor had closed his eyes, but he heard Wil clicking his tongue, indicating a miss. Feodor sighed and looked over at Wil.

"Yet again, stamina beats precision," Wil said.

"Yet again, you just got lucky," Feodor responded. "In fact, you probably weren't aiming for that mouse in the first place."

"Don't get upset just because I beat you for the tenth time in a row."

"So you have the best streak. Until that streak, our score was nineteen to one with three draws. Besides, I'm still ahead of you. When my wrist starts holding out longer, you'll never have that arrogant smile again."

"When your wrist lasts longer, I'll visit my old friends in Pherae."

"If they're still your friends after you just up and left like that."

"Sure they are. My little adventure with Dan is something I'll never forget, not to mention I haven't seen Rebecca in what seems like a dragon's life. I hope she's not too worried about me."

"And you insist that you don't love her. You've told me so much about her that she might as well already be your wife."

"That's enough," Wil said. "Or shall I bring up that embarrassing situation with Serra?"

"Not funny. Why she would flirt with me in the first place is beyond even my father; he thinks someone like that should not be a cleric."

"Well, that's Serra for you. She's certainly cute, but she's the most annoying girl you'll ever meet."

"There is no doubt about that. She's sworn herself to chastity, but she went right on ahead trying to get me to fall for her, only to tell me she's a cleric once I tell her how I feel. That would have just about ruined my opinion of girls had it not been for the fact that Xenia's my sister."

"Well, speaking of Serra, I wonder how Erk is holding up. I wouldn't be surprised if the poor guy deserted halfway."

"I still think you exaggerated your part in that whole campaign. In fact, I'm even beginning to wonder if Rebecca and Dan are real people. Somehow, I can't picture you working a ballista and saving the entire group, or leaving a town in Pherae, coming across a clever tactician and Lady Lyndis, and winding up a knight of Caelin."

"Well, I did."

"Hah. Well, judging by the sun, I should be getting back home; Mother always starts on dinner around this time."

"So soon?"

"Unlike you, Wil, I'm not a night person. Also, we didn't bring any lanterns. Therefore, we should be getting back to town."

"'Therefore,'" Wil said, quoting Feodor. "You been spending too much time with your father again?"

"I would hardly call it too much time."

"Well, anyhow, can I have dinner with you? I don't feel like Fafner's cooking tonight."

"I've nothing against it."

* * *

The dinner table had five chairs set up, but a sixth one was taken to it once Feodor's mother noticed that Wil was having dinner with them as well. Feodor went on upstairs to put away his bow and arrows. Right before starting up the spiral staircase, he noticed his father playing chess with a young man who looked about Xenia's age. He concluded that the man was the other guest and decided to learn his name after putting away his equipment. Xenia happened to pass by Feodor on the stairs, a small amount of sweat on her forehead, implying that she had done a little work in the garden earlier.

Feodor and Xenia shared a room, and anyone who knew them well enough could tell which side was used the most by each person. On one side was Feodor's bed with the blankets neat, but with too much on one side and a small part of the mattress showing on the other. A bookcase was on Xenia's side of the room, and while there were some books that Feodor read (with a shaman for a father, illiteracy would not do—even for someone with no interest in magic), most of the books belonged to Xenia. Feodor put his bow and arrows next to his bed and headed on downstairs again, just in time to hear the word "checkmate" be uttered. The voice that said it was not that of Feodor's father, which encouraged him to rush down the stairs.

There, in the living room, was Feodor's father looking at the board from every possible angle in utter disbelief. The sight was an extremely rare one that neither Feodor nor Xenia had ever seen. For the first time in their memories, their father had lost a game of chess. Feodor approached the young man, who was laughing at his opponent's surprise.

"Pardon me," Feodor cut in, "but I don't believe we've met."

"Indeed we haven't," the man said, turning his head to meet Feodor. "I'm Ivan," he said, shaking Feodor's hand.

"Feodor. So, how exactly did you end up here?"

"I happened to notice your sister practicing magic. I was quite surprised to see a maiden her age using Elfire with such skill."

"She's had years of practice," Feodor's father said. "This is apparently the same Ivan who led the battle against Lord Lundgren."

"Is that so?" Feodor asked. "Well, do you remember Wil?"

"Of course," Ivan said. "I would think it fair to assume you are acquainted with him."

"Yes, and as it turns out, he asked to stay for dinner with us tonight."

"In that case, I will have to see how he's faring. He's an impressive archer, but he still has much room to improve."

"I agree completely; he and I have a friendly rivalry going on. Right now, our score in matches is nineteen to eleven, with three draws. I have the nineteen."

"Then you must be quite skilled yourself. Anyway, is Wil nearby?"

"I'm right here," Wil said, coming in from the study. "It's certainly been a while, Ivan."

"Only a month," Ivan said. "I suppose it's a good thing you came across me today; I'm leaving tomorrow morning."

"What?! But you've only been here a month!"

"Do you have something against Caelin?" Xenia asked.

"Not at all," Ivan responded. "However, I do not like staying in one place for too long. Also, I have been told that the summers here are quite brutal."

"They are, but that's because we're not connected to the ocean."

"Therefore, I do not intend to stay. The other reason, though, quite simply, is that I would like to see this continent before I get too old to travel."

"Well, make sure you have some guys to protect you," Wil said. "You're not that much of a fighter, and you certainly don't use magic."

"Just bad luck. Magic relies on a complex set of genes; some can use it, some can't."

"Suffice to say you're no ordinary thinker," Xenia said. "Even though you can't use magic, you can read Dragon, Eliminean, Spiritual, and modern writing and even understand it. I've never met someone so knowledgeable about magic before—at least, no one so knowledgeable who can't use magic himself."

"Thank you, Xenia."

"By the way," Feodor started, "Wil tells me that, under your command, he turned the tide of a battle by wreaking havoc with a ballista."

"He actually had little effect on the battle," Ivan said, laughing. "As a matter of fact, the ballista had only one bolt left when Wil finally reached it, and he used it to finish off a cavalier that Rath had wounded. I'm afraid I didn't use Wil's skills very effectively."

Feodor looked skeptically at Wil. "I'll never believe _your_ account of the campaign again," he said.

"By the way, Ivan," Feodor's father started, "have you ever been to Ilia?"

"Yes," the strategist responded.

"Well, have you, perchance, heard of Niime the Hermit?"

"Of course; she is a legendary druid. Were you one of her students?"

"I learned from her briefly, but my family left for Lycia when I was fifteen. As a matter of fact, the story of our journey is a rather odd one."

"Is that so? If we meet again, I will have to remember to ask about it. My experience with shamans is that their stories are as long as their history."

"I…" Feodor's father laughed. "I suppose that is true. And the one I would have told you would be long even by our standards."

"It's a good story, though," Xenia said. "Feodor always fell asleep, but he doesn't care for long stories. Perhaps when he has children, he'll want to tell about how he met his wife."

"Compared to what Father went through," Feodor began, "I doubt my story will be anything like his."

"So, Ivan, where are you from?" Xenia asked.

"I prefer not to reveal that information; people think of me differently if they know where I am from. Besides, considering how much traveling I do, my descent really means little."

"Sorry; I wasn't trying to offend."

"You didn't; people always ask me that question. In fact, one of the reasons I travel is for the sake of tolerance. Someone from Bern is unlikely to treat a Lycian like one of his countrymen. Similarly, an Etrurian will probably sympathize more with a fellow Etrurian than a Sacaen. By traveling, I am able to get a sense of all the national customs. For example, the Djute tribe's movements actually follow those of the Djute bird, a bird that travels north to Ilia and south to Lycia depending on the season."

"Occasionally attacking southern Ilian towns," Feodor's father added. "Of course, Ilians and Sacaens are not known for getting along politically. On a personal level, they can easily befriend each other and even fall in love."

"I gathered that from the appearance of your wife; she is quite clearly of Sacaen descent. In addition, Lyn—that is to say, Lady Lyndis—and Dame Florina have been close friends for a long time. Admittedly, Lady Lyndis is only half-Sacaen, but she was raised on Sacaen customs."

"By the way, Ivan, you've commanded mages before, haven't you?" Xenia asked.

"Yes; a young gentleman from Etruria named Erk was under my command for a brief while."

"At least Wil was honest about that," Feodor said.

"I hope the poor fellow is faring all right as Serra's escort. I will not deny that Serra is attractive, but she has a personality that I had a great deal of trouble tolerating."

"Don't remind me."

"So you have met her?"

"She pretended she was interested in me, only to tell me she was a cleric after I finally got up the courage to tell her I was smitten."

"If I have been here long enough for infatuations to come and go, then I should definitely leave tomorrow."

"What's wrong? Have you something against love?"

"Nothing against it; I just know that love does not come and go over the course of a week. It makes me wonder if Erk will end up with Araphen Syndrome."

"You know what Araphen Syndrome is?" Xenia asked. "You're the first person we've met here who actually knows what it is."

"It matters to few; unless some great war were to break out, it would be unimportant to anyone." Ivan chuckled somewhat sadly. "Ironic that one who hates war would be a tactician."

"Then why did you become one?"

"It's what I'm good at; I'm weak enough to lose a fight with a child, and since I don't have the proper descent for magic, I was left with something that required thinking. What better for a thinker who loves to travel than tactics? Besides, I meet plenty of interesting people. As a matter of fact, I actually keep a log of all the people I meet. Since I have some skill with the brush and quill, I also try to sketch them so I remember them should I come across them again. In fact, I could tell a number of stories about the groups I've commanded."

"Such as?"

Ivan walked over to his greatcoat, which was hanging from a rack near one of the doors. Feodor noticed that even his way of walking seemed like that of a tactician—calm and somewhat arrogant; he had his arms behind his back, one hand holding the other by the wrist. Ivan reached into the secret pocket of his greatcoat and took out a large book and opened it to a page dated the 13th of the month of the Bow, 979.

"Each page has a picture of the face of someone I commanded," Ivan started, "along with some details about his or her personality. For example, someone I became very close friends with in Ilia was this young lady here." Ivan turned to a page with a picture of a girl who looked around fifteen. She had purple hair (a common trait in Ilians). "Her name's Yuno, and she was, without a doubt, my favorite out of the group of pegasus knights I commanded. There were initially about fifteen under my command, and they were, for the most part, just in training."

"A fellow your age commanding a wing of pegasus knights?" Feodor cut in. "That sounds suspicious, considering that only women are allowed to ride pegasi."

"That's just how things turned out. If I've given you the impression that I'm some sort of cad like Sir Sain, I apologize for misleading you. When I was first given command, I would have preferred a more experienced group, but spending time with them proved to benefit both myself and the troops. I became far more skilled with inexperienced soldiers, and the pegasus knights are probably full-fledged knights now. I'd mention the battles, but you would probably not believe me if I told you."

Xenia took the book from Ivan's hands and looked at the large number of notes about Yuno. "You've probably got the best handwriting I've ever seen," she said. "The writing's not exactly good-looking, but it's much more legible than anything else I've read. Is it all right if I take a look at this?"

"I suppose there's nothing wrong with that. Besides, one might be able to say it's all just fiction, considering my accounts of some of the battles."

Xenia walked upstairs to the drawing room so she could read without any disturbances. Feodor sat down in one of the chairs.

"So… pegasus knights," he said, skeptical of the validity of Ivan's small story.

"It is no lie," Ivan said. "I've had a small number of adventures, considering that my family was never content to just stay put."

"So why don't you have anyone traveling with you?"

"I'd rather not answer that."

"A traveling tactician who commanded a wing of Ilian pegasus knights and doesn't say a thing about his descent—somehow you strike me as more of a storyteller."

"I don't know about the pegasus knight part, but he's definitely a traveling tactician," Wil said. "You can ask anyone who helped defeat Lord Lundgren; Ivan's a bona fide tactician."

Feodor's mother gave the call for dinner, ending the conversation. Perhaps it stemmed from his father's paranoia, but Feodor could not help but wonder how much of Ivan's story was true. Hopefully, he would be able to expose the liar for who he really was during dinner. Ivan may have been able to fool Xenia, but he would be unlikely to continue lying like that to five people.


	3. Chapter 3: Checkmate

**Chapter 3—Checkmate**

Maybe it was the fact that her father was the only particularly smart man in Alberich, but Xenia could not help but respect Ivan. She was quite interested in his account of his travels and would have preferred to have had more time to read before dinner was called. Still, she figured she could learn enough just from dinner conversation. For someone with no magic ability at all, he was quite knowledgeable about the theories of magic (and just knowledgeable in general). It was quite a shame that Ivan was going to leave tomorrow; he was such an interesting character in her opinion. Xenia and Feodor were different in their reactions to travelers—Feodor viewed them as liars hoping to become famous through their stories, but Xenia envied them for being able to see the entire continent. Both of her parents were born outside of Lycia, and both had done much traveling. Xenia, on the other hand, was born and raised in Caelin, never traveling farther from her home than a farm on the outskirts of the capital's region. Travel was in her blood; staying in Alberich seemed to her a waste of her life.

"So you are the famous Ivan," Xenia's mother said. "You've done quite a bit for Caelin, if not Lycia in general."

"Thank you," Ivan said. "I feel I must say I was rather surprised to see Xenia practicing Elfire; few mages her age are so skilled. Also, Igor seems to have the most impressive knowledge of the theories of magic."

"Considering Volga's prices for dark tomes, I need something to study while raising money to buy the next tome," Xenia's father said.

"Volga is the most rotten witch I've ever had the misfortune of meeting," Xenia said. "She hates my father and even sees fit to torment me as well just because he practices dark magic. I still haven't forgiven her for 'accidentally' dropping that Fimbulvetr tome my father had saved up so much money to buy for me."

"Fimbulvetr?" Ivan asked in disbelief . "You are skilled enough to use a tome as powerful as Fimbulvetr?"

"Magic is in her blood," Xenia's father said. "If the place were more tolerant of dark magic, we would move to Etruria to further our magic studies. Unfortunately, I would probably be tortured if not killed."

"Such is the Eliminean Church. It's disturbing how much power those bishops have. Magic is magic, dark, light, or anima. In fact, I probably take the most interest in dark magic simply because so many people are foolish enough to view it as evil. Dark magic is certainly a difficult codex to master, but those who do master it without being corrupted by its power are the most knowledgeable and powerful people in existence."

"Which is exactly why I viewed Lady Niime with such reverence. All four of her sons are quite intelligent. Poor Canas seemed to be struggling when I was still in Ilia, but I feel he is probably a great shaman now, if not a druid."

"I am sorry to say I have never met Niime, but I have always wanted to; sages and druids are far more interesting than warriors of any sort. Yuno is one of the few close friends I have made who does not use magic. In fact, she and Niime are the main reasons why I hope to visit Ilia again."

"Where haven't you been?" Feodor asked.

"Nabata, Missur, Kafti, the Western Isles, and Valor. Of course, there are supposedly also other continents that I would not mind visiting someday."

"It would not surprise me," Xenia said. "Scientists have done the math and concluded that Elibe is only a small part of the world; there might, in fact, be over four other continents according to their theories."

"Bah!" Feodor laughed. "Since when have scientists ever been right?"

"They were right about certain substances burning with different flames," Ivan said. "In fact, there are a number of things they have been right about. Some have actually managed to predict the weather."

"You are really not the best liar. I've learned from Wil how to spot a whopper, and your stories cannot possibly be true."

"Believe or disbelieve—that is your choice; there is only one truth, but beliefs can conflict at any point." Ivan put a last apple slice into his mouth and swallowed it. "May I be excused?" he asked Xenia's father.

"I suppose nothing's wrong with that. I was hoping to talk a little more with you."

"Ivan?" Xenia started, "Do you have anyplace to spend the night?"

"I suppose I do not. Are you inviting me to stay here?"

"If you're willing; we have a guest room."

"That sounds wonderful; usually, I have to sleep outside. It may seem odd, but I have a number of reasons for traveling the way I do." Ivan got up and walked over to the chessboard, where Xenia promptly joined him. Ivan laughed. "Are you interested in a game?"

"My father never loses, so I was hoping to see for myself how good you are."

"Then let us begin. I believe the challenger goes first."

"Very well." Xenia moved one of her pawns forward a space. "So, what exactly went on in Ilia?"

Ivan moved one of his pawns forward two spaces. "I visited the capital, Edessa, looking for a group to train with, and I ended up with Yuno's troops." Xenia moved her bishop out to put Ivan's king in check.

"Check," she said, quickly being countered by another pawn move.

"Anyway, we traveled south to train against bandits, as was typically the case with any new mercenaries." Xenia moved her knight to protect her bishop. "Reports said some bandits were terrorizing the border regions, burning villages, looting homes, capturing civilians, typical bandit stuff." Ivan moved another pawn, ignoring Xenia's own move. "Imagine our surprise when it turned out to be a part of the Kutolah tribe!"

"The Kutolah?" Xenia moved her knight again. "I'm beginning to understand why Feodor doesn't believe you. Well, story or not, it's interesting, so keep going."

"Very well." Ivan moved another pawn. Xenia noticed a pattern in the pawn moves. "It was far from easy going after archers. Fortunately, some of the soldiers had experience on the ground. Yuno was the most skilled of the group, so I gave our single Delphi Shield to her. She would employ hit-and-run tactics over the forest." Xenia finally moved her other knight out from behind her pawns. "Yuno would swoop down and strike a nomad, then fly away and lure the group toward the forest, where our temporary foot soldiers were waiting in ambush." Ivan moved yet another pawn. Xenia had a good feeling what his next move would be. "The strategy was one the Kutolah themselves used on the plains. Of course, with the thick forest, we now had the advantage."

"Were they that foolish?" Xenia asked while castling her king and rook.

"They did not expect us to have foot soldiers; they saw us approaching only on pegasi, so they figured they could use the terrain to their advantage."

"And?"

"The troops the enemy sent after Yuno were slaughtered," Ivan said, moving another pawn two spaces forward. "Needless to say, they would not fall for that strategy again. With the brush serving as cover, our troops had been able to get in close and kill the nomads while their bows were essentially useless." Xenia moved a knight directly next to one of Ivan's pawns. Right away, Ivan's queen was in that same space. "From there, the battle was much simpler. Our foot soldiers took advantage of the ruins to strike from safety, be it with javelins at a distance or with lances up close." Xenia moved her own queen out to prepare for the battle Ivan was inviting. Until Ivan had moved his queen, the game had been mainly defensive. "Yuno would rescue anyone who got hurt and take her safely behind the woods, where five of our foot soldiers still were for defensive purposes." Ivan moved a pawn forward. To Xenia, the strategy seemed to be a pawn-wall strategy. Noticing the lack of a pawn or other piece to protect the newly-moved pawn, she captured the pawn with her queen. Ivan laughed as he captured Xenia's queen with the knight she had failed to notice. However, despite the loss of her queen, the pawn wall now had a gap.

"I still broke your wall," she said.

"I know; I knew you would eventually try to break it. In fact, I was counting on you to do that to free my rooks."

"So, the battle with the Kutolah?"

"Yes, of course. From the ruins, it was a fairly simple strategy of keeping the battle in the town. With Yuno cutting off their retreat by swooping in on anyone who tried to flee, the leader eventually surrendered. My role switched from strategist to diplomat at that point."

"So you tried to negotiate?" Xenia asked as she moved her other knight over the pawn wall.

"With the exception of one nomad who we sent to Dayan as a messenger, we held all the survivors captive until the messenger returned with Dayan's response. We had decided that we would release the survivors if we got Dayan's word that he would not attack Ilian border towns again."

"Did he agree?"

"On the condition that Ilia would not build towns on the plains. That message was sent to Edessa." Ivan moved his endangered rook forward a space. "Anyway, the people at Edessa agreed and sent their consent. The town was rebuilt in the forest, and all other Ilian plains towns are being abandoned. There are some stubborn people who want to stay on the plains and be protected by Ilia, but they're on their own." Xenia moved her knight and captured Ivan's white-space bishop. Knowing his rook was doomed, Ivan responded by moving his other rook a space forward. Xenia captured Ivan's rook.

"Well, you sure have… odd methods of fighting."

"Focusing a soldier on only one use is wasteful and predictable. By keeping the enemy fenced in with my strategy, we were able to do far more than what our initial orders commanded of us. We had been ordered to wipe out the 'bandits', but we instead managed to protect the borders from the Kutolah for what will hopefully be a very long time." Ivan moved his remaining rook toward the gap. If he moved his knight aside, Ivan would be able to get his rook out into the battlefield. Seeing an opportunity, Xenia moved one of her pawns two spaces forward, enabling her own rooks to get out. Ivan just moved his queen forward a space to avoid the capture attempt.

"Did the other tribes agree to the terms?" Xenia asked.

"No, but Yuno said she had learned quite well from my strategy. She said that if other Sacaen tribes attacked Ilian towns, she would know how to proceed. Of course, my strategy would not be overly effective on open plains." Xenia moved another pawn two spaces forward. Ivan moved a pawn one space forward to put Xenia's infiltrating knight in range of his rook. Xenia moved her knight out of range, to which Ivan responded by moving his rook directly next to it. Trapped. Xenia looked for a move she could make to save her knight—none existed. Defeated, Xenia moved one of her rooks out into the field.

"How do you think she'll fare?"

"Quite well; she's a good learner." Ivan moved his rook and grabbed the knight that had been bothering him. Xenia sighed as she moved her rook out into the field. Tired of being menaced by Xenia's bishop, Ivan moved a pawn and captured it. Xenia was about to move her rook into the opening, but then noticed the black rook in the way.

"Did you fight any other battles with her?"

"No, but I spent some extra time in Edessa before leaving; the Union expected me to go through a whole campaign, but it took only one battle." Xenia moved her rook forward a space, hoping to slip through a different opening. Ivan moved his knight into range of the rook. Xenia sighed again and pulled back her rook. "To be honest, I had fallen in love with her by the time I moved on."

"Another result of Araphen Syndrome."

"One could say that." Ivan moved his queen past Xenia's pawns to endanger two of her rooks. The rook had only one safe place, so she moved it there. Ivan moved his bishop out into the field. Plenty of bad moves could be made, a few ordinary moves, and no good moves. It was then that she noticed the safe place for her rook that could be useful and moved there. Ivan moved his bishop to endanger the rook.

"Do you miss her?"

"Of course. I've learned to cope, though." Xenia moved her rook to endanger the bishop, which resulted in Ivan protecting the bishop with his queen. No move could save the rook, so Xenia simply took the bishop and lost her rook to the queen. Xenia moved her pawn forward to keep Ivan's queen from menacing her bishop, but that proved useless; Ivan moved his queen and put the bishop in future danger. Not willing to surrender, though, Xenia moved her castled rook out. Ivan moved his knight toward Xenia's wall. Xenia moved her rook to the edge to avoid the knight's trap.

"Checkmate," Ivan said after moving his queen next to Xenia's bishop. Xenia examined the board and sighed.

"You _are_ good. After you started getting past my defenses, it was more a matter of when you would beat me than a matter of who would win."

"Not to sound arrogant, but I _am_ a tactician, after all."

"So, you said you had reasons for traveling the way you do?"

"Yes. When there's nowhere indoors to sleep, I sleep under whatever natural shelter I can find rather than in a tent. By doing that, it's a lot harder for bandits to find me. Of course, when I was in Ilia, I slept in a tent. Similarly, I never bring anything that might be considered valuable. I have my log and my food, but otherwise, I don't bother with any supplies. As for traveling alone, it's for a reason similar to the reason for not using a tent; a single traveler is more likely to get by bandits undetected than a group. Considering that I'm a lousy fighter, everything I do when traveling has to be done right."

"If I ever travel, I'll have to remember those strategies."

"You needn't use them; I only plan that way because I would be no threat to a bandit if I came across one. You can use magic, though, so you don't have to worry as much about being attacked."

"I suppose."

"If you will excuse me…" Ivan got up and went off to the guest room. He seemed to be a very social person, but only if there was something to do while talking. Scientists said that it was natural for men to be less willing to talk for the sake of talking, and Xenia had plenty of good reasons to believe that, considering how many examples she could take from men she knew of in Alberich. It was a shame Ivan was only passing through; she did not know how well she could connect to him, but he had some very interesting stories, true or not.


	4. Chapter 4: The Ganelon Bandits

**Chapter 4—The Ganelon Bandits  
**

She rarely had the time to actually practice her swordplay thanks to the endless work split between the armory and her family, but Marina was still quite a force, as Kent, who had agreed to spar with her for a moment, quickly learned. Marina was far more agile than Kent, but against his incredible accuracy, they were on even footing. If anything, it was her technique above all else that kept Kent from winning outright. At the moment, the score was four points to one, with Marina winning. Kent, after getting struck four times, had finally caught on to her strategy and scored a successful blow to Marina's shin. In a real battle, even limbs were valuable, so they counted in practice as well. In the case of strength, the two were almost equal, so neither viewed overpowering the other as a priority. Every now and then, their blows came to a pressing match, but Kent had learned to release early lest Marina release and dodge to throw him off-balance. In fact, that was how Marina had scored twice in the match.

The various wild plants were in bloom—delphiniums, roses, lilies, among others, but the only reason anyone noticed was because their aromas overpowered the stench of sweat that both combatants were likely emitting. The clack of the two wooden rods striking each other echoed across the hills, bouncing back upon hitting the small group of mountains near the castle.

Marina felt a stabbing pain in her chest as she fell back from the force of Kent's thrust. That was a surprise. Kent was a cavalier, so he was more familiar with the use of a slash, which, while more powerful, was far easier to parry.

"My apologies," Kent said, helping his opponent up. "Did I strike too hard?"

"Yes," Marina said, "but thanks to the padding, it didn't hurt…too much."

"We've been taught that Sacaen warriors rarely wear armor, so that makes their torsos far more vulnerable. Is it true?"

"I think the clothes we wear in battle answers your question. Supposedly, someone who traveled with the Djute for a while ended up becoming a lethal swordmaster."

"Is that so?"

"It's only a rumor, not to mention I haven't seen him since I… I suppose you could say eloped… with Igor. Have you ever heard of Karel the Sword Demon?"

"I can't say I have; I don't bother with the stories of famous fighters. Wallace and Roland are the only ones who even remotely interest me."

"Well, it's just that Karel didn't even wear padding under his clothes; a single well-aimed blow could kill him, but he was skilled enough to kill his foes first."

"You sound as though you respect him."

"I do, but I don't like him that much. He's very powerful, but he is said to nearly live to kill nowadays. Before Igor and I eloped, Karel was essentially a typical Sacaen plainsman." She paused. "We're talking too much; shall we continue with the match?"

"Sure. I believe it is now four to three. If I strike your torso again, the match is over."

"If I strike you anywhere, the match is over."

The match resumed. Kent probably attacked more, but that was because he had an advantage. Marina was a very skilled fighter, but Kent had longer arms, giving him a greater reach. It seemed only a small advantage to anyone who watched the match with no knowledge of the sword, but reach had won many a battle for Kent. Marina noticed that Kent's blows were parried at much closer quarters than her own blows. She was wary of Kent's use of thrusts now and knew that he would probably try the strategy again. Sure enough, Kent straightened his path and thrust his sword, which would have struck Marina right in the heart had she not ducked. That was what Kent saw coming; Marina ducked and counterattacked, which Kent dodged. Kent brought his wooden sword down lightly on Marina's head. The match was over. Marina sighed through her nose and waited for the sword to move so she could stand up.

"You must have trained quite a bit while traveling with Lady Lyndis," she said. She had never lost to a knight before, so losing to Kent was a bit of an embarrassment to her.

"Sain got some training as well; I simply pay more attention to accuracy than power. Watching Lady Lyndis in battle afforded me chances to imitate her technique, which, unlike the style taught to Lycian knights, revolves more around striking the foe's weak spots than overpowering him. Surely enough, my own skills in battle grew to reflect that tendency. Sain strikes harder than I do, but whenever we spar, he rarely touches me."

"It seems your position of Commander is a well-earned one, considering how you married foreign styles to your own to improve yourself."

"Thank you. By the way, your style seemed rather odd; even Lady Lyndis did not use that method."

"I normally use two swords in battle because of the specific strengths and weaknesses of my favorite sword."

"A wise choice. It slightly weakens your defense, but it makes you quite versatile. Out of curiosity, what is your favorite sword? I'm guessing it's something like a killing edge, considering how few people can use armorslayers or longswords with just one hand."

"It's a special blade made from obsidian."

"I'm not familiar with what obsidian is."

"Obsidian is a type of glass formed in and around volcanoes. In the form of a sword, it's fragile and essentially useless against armor, but it never becomes dull and always cuts cleanly and effectively."

"Very fascinating. So that's why you always wield two swords—you need something for armored foes."

"Exactly."

"I hope I will never have to see that sword in action."

"I hope so, too."

The two shook hands and went off in different directions. By the time Alberich's walls had come into view, Marina noticed something wrong. Igor was running to her. The fact that it was Igor did not bother her, but more so the fact that he was in his robes and cape. The only time he dressed like that was for battle. In the distance, Marina thought she saw a flame rise and fall.

"What happened?" she asked when Igor was within earshot. "Is everyone okay?"

Igor handed Marina her obsidian sword and an iron sword. "Bandits," he said, panting. "A whole army of them. It's as though ten different groups got together and decided to attack. The majority of them are near the southeast gate, but they're struggling to surround us."

"Let's go, then!"

Igor drew up a ball of energy in his hands and teleported himself and Marina to the market square. There, three people with weapons were lying in ambush, waiting for the bandits to break through the northern gate. The sound of thunder (Xenia, most likely) flew throughout the town, bouncing in every direction in response to the veritable labyrinth of houses and shops comprising the town.

"I'll go help Xenia out," Igor said. "Do what you wish."

Before Marina could respond, Igor dashed off, somehow able to run despite nearly keeling over in his search for her. Marina headed down the main road and narrowly avoided getting dental work done by an arrow. She looked in the direction of the shot and saw villagers clashing with bandits at the wrecked western gate. That would do. Drawing closer, she noticed that the bandit army was mainly brigands, as was typical of a horde of bandits.

"Mother, out of the way!" Feodor yelled before two oxen almost gored Marina, pulling a carroballista behind it with Feodor operating it. The driver pulled back on the reins and turned so the broad side of the cart was facing the fray. Feodor shot a bolt from the ballista, running through two bandits before losing momentum and leaving a bloody shish-kabob on the ground. Marina ran into the fray. Since the bandits had no armor, she was most effective on the front lines.

A dark-grey-haired man occupied the center of the fray, swinging a powerful axe that Marina had only seen once—in her family's armory. The man swung the axe and immediately struck down a villager. The axe then glowed and was swung right after at Marina, who managed to snap out of her shock and dodge in time. The blade broke a stone making up the road, soon being brought back up by the bandit's muscular arms. Noticing the bandit's horned helmet, Marina noticed that this was no ordinary brigand—she was facing a Berserker. Marina countered with a blow from her own obsidian sword, making a gash in the bandit's purple shirt and padding just below the edge of his armor. Blood slowly seeped from the cut, but it was almost useless. Marina's follow-up was a slash intended to separate the bandit's torso from his legs, but her iron sword, despite being quite sharp, was caught by the padding and did not even cut into the man's hard muscles. The bandit swung his axe again, missing both blows.

At the moment, it was best to retreat. Marina dashed to the armory, cutting through the five bandits inside nimbly and with little trouble. She only hoped the lock in her room was still holding. At the top of the stairs, she saw all the doors in fine shape, completely unharmed. She entered her room and put away the useless iron sword and removed from the sheath above her bed a sword Karel had given to her as a gift a long time ago: a Wo Dao. Such a deadly blade would be sure to strike down the giant outside.

Marina ran downstairs, cutting down two new bandits who had bothered to come in and back out into the battle. Marina confronted the Berserker again, striking first with a powerful blow with her obsidian sword, which managed to cut through a strap holding the bandit's armor on and created another cut, which the man ignored. The next blow was the one she had a feeling she would strike. Marina jumped back in a flip and struck like a whirlwind in two devastating blows, one carving the man's arm to the bone while the second cut the other strap holding the armor, making it fall off. The bandit swung his axe, yet again missing both blows. Berserkers were known for their immense power, but they were unlikely to strike someone as agile as Marina was. Marina performed another critical hit, this time with her obsidian sword, slicing through the man's right shoulder and continuing until it slid out cleanly while cutting his breastbone (according to Igor, the breastbone was actually just a lot of cartilage gathered in the same place). A follow-up with the Wo Dao was not necessary; the bandit's purple clothes turned red as blood oozed from his mouth and wounds. The dropped axe made a loud clatter as the Berserker fell to the ground, dead.

The other bandits, seeing their superior cut down by a mere myrmidon, began to hesitate.

"Carjiga's dead!" yelled one. "Let's get out of here!"

Many retreated, but others stayed to be finished off. That was the first time Marina's Wo Dao had been used in battle. The obsidian blade had been used a few times before, but never in a battle of that scale. The bandits, whatever group they were, were no ordinary group; they were practically an army. Fortunately, being close to the castle, there were plenty of skilled combatants in Alberich to help with the defense. As word of Carjiga's death reached the other bandits, the battle quickly shifted from a stalemate to a victory.

* * *

The town of Alberich was not going to be in good condition for some time. For one thing, twenty-nine villagers had died in the battle, along with sixty-seven wounded. The first priority was getting the dead out of the town so any disease-carrying scavengers, such as rats, would not be a danger to the town. There were also several repairs to be done, especially to the southeastern gate's area, which had seen most of the fighting. Around 10,000 Gold's worth of weapons and valuables had been stolen from the armory. Volga had been lucky enough to be deeper in the town, safe from harm and theft. The town streets had ants on them harvesting dried blood and an occasional piece of flesh that the cleanup had somehow missed. Xenia was one of the wounded, but it was hardly a wound thanks to Reverend Anadyr's healing magic. The burn mark on her arm was now just an eyesore and not a source of pain in any way. 

"They're not your typical bandits," Marina said. "I've never seen them in such large numbers before, let alone with a Berserker in their midst."

"You _only_ faced a Berserker?" Xenia asked rhetorically. "I got this burn from a Sage. If Father hadn't arrived when he did, my arm wouldn't be the only part of me with dead flesh. There were also two Heroes (even though they should be Villains in this case), a Valkyrie, and a trio of Falcoknights. That Triangle attack of theirs almost killed Dancaïre. That Berserker may have been the leader, but most of the casualties were where Father and I were fighting."

"The only advantage of the bandit attack was the fact that most of their magic tomes were not damaged," Igor said. "We were lucky enough to find a Luna tome (which I killed the Sage with) and a Fimbulvetr tome. The Ganelon Bandits, as they called themselves, had wrought a good amount of havoc and stolen a good amount before they got here. Needless to say, the castle is going to receive a dreadful report, not to mention a lot of people here are beginning to resent Lord Hausen. Despite being close enough for knights to arrive in less than an hour, the castle did nothing. If this is how well-defended Caelin is, I certainly hope we're never invaded."

"It was a surprise attack," Marina said. "Chances are the castle didn't know about their approach."

"A group that big got past the castle undetected? Either the defenses are awful, or the Ganelon Bandits are great at sneak attacks."

Marina had nothing to say to that, so she remained silent. She trusted Lord Hausen and Lady Lyndis, but she could not help but think there was a problem. Perhaps something else had drawn the knights' attention. Considering the recent disappearance of Marquess Pherae, there was probably much else to worry about; a bandit attack was not a top priority—besides, Alberich had won, right?

* * *

Author's Notes: I didn't manage to kill Carjiga in Chapter 4 of Lyn's Story, so I decided to let him return. As for the word "carroballista", that is a ballista mounted on a cart for increased mobility. Most ballistae were actually carried rather than rolled. 


End file.
